


The Weapon

by AlElizabeth



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Physical Abuse, Psychological Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 09:03:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5122580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlElizabeth/pseuds/AlElizabeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU after Season 5, Episode 3 "Free To Be You And Me". Sam takes Dean's advice and leaves. He doesn't get far though, before Tim and Reggie make a reappearance and this time they are not going to take 'no' for an answer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

Sam left Garber, Oklahoma without looking back. He bought a ticket for the earliest bus out of town, not caring what its destination was. As Sam stared out the window of the Greyhound, he tried not to think of his brother's last words to him. He tried not to dwell on his brother's anger.

Sam had called Dean; seeking help, consolation, sympathy and instead his brother had made him feel even worse than before. Dean had acted as though it was Sam's fault he was Lucifer's true vessel.

Pick a hemisphere.

Dean's words echoed in Sam's head, drowning out the sounds of the other passengers on the bus.

Dean didn't want Sam around anymore, didn't want Sam to be anywhere near him; so Sam would do just as his brother advised: He'd go as far away as possible, become invisible and maybe then Dean would be happy.

W

"Next stop, Fort Worth," the driver's voice startled Sam awake. He peered out the bus widow with gritty eyes and yawned loudly.

Sam sighed sadly and rubbed a hand over his face. He was exhausted. Between the fight in the bar with Tim and Reggie, Lucifer's late-night revelation, and the disastrous call to his brother, Sam hadn't managed to get much sleep the night before.

Sam tried stretching in the confines of the bus seat and decided that he would get off at the next city, take stock of the situation, maybe even rent a motel room and sleep for a few hours before heading south again. South seemed like a good direction to go in as any, at least it was warm, and Sam had never been to South America before.

Pick a hemisphere.

Sam grimaced as Dean's words rang in his ears once more.

Resting his head against the window, Sam watched the streets zoom past, his eyes hot with unshed tears of sadness and anger.

W

Sam stepped down from the bus along with a handful of other passengers. He stood with his duffle bag on his shoulder for a moment, breathing in the dusty, arid air and looked around at the men and women waiting for their own buses to enter the terminal.

Shifting the duffle into a more comfortable position, Sam strolled through the crowd and into the air conditioned bus depot. Weaving in between groups of fellow travelers, Sam spotted a display case full of brochures and maps. Making a beeline toward the pamphlets, Sam paused when he felt his cell phone vibrate in his pocket.

Fishing his phone out, Sam checked the Caller ID, saw it was Bobby and decided to at least let the old hunter know he was still this side of the grass.

"Sam! Damn boy, where the hell are you?" Bobby snapped worriedly when Sam greeted him.

"In the south," Sam said vaguely, eyes actively pursuing the maps of Fort Worth and the surrounding area.

"Are you alright? Dean told me about Lucifer," Bobby asked.

"I'm sure he did," Sam answered, "Did he tell you he pretty much told me to stay as far away from him as possible?"

"Sam," Bobby chastised, "We both know Dean and we both know he says some real stupid things when he's angry. He doesn't mean them, you know. I'm worried about you. Why don't you come up to my place and we can figure this whole mess out?"

Sam declined the offer, "I can't Bobby; Dean made it clear he doesn't want me around anymore."

"Boy, stop being an idjit and come on home!" Bobby begged and Sam sucked in a deep breath. He wanted nothing more than to just turn around now and take the next bus all the way up to Sioux Falls but he couldn't do that. Not with his brother hating him and Lucifer chasing him. No, it was best if he was alone.

"I'm sorry Bobby," Sam apologized, feeling a lump of emotion grow in his throat, "Maybe we'll see each other around sometime."

"Sam, don't-" The old hunter protested but Sam closed his phone, breaking the connection.

Sam gathered up a selection of pamphlets and headed back outside, intent on finding a cheap motel so he could rest for a few hours.

SPN

Bobby stared at his cell phone for a moment before cursing. What the hell was that boy thinking?

Grumbling, the old hunter rolled himself into the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the refrigerator.

Bobby loved Sam and Dean like they were his own sons but sometimes he really wanted to kill them.

"Those idjits are going to be the death of me," Bobby sighed and set his beer aside unopened.

He rubbed his face with one hand and picked up his phone again. He tried dialing Sam's number but it just went straight to voicemail.

"C'mon," Bobby hissed, "You know you can't do this alone, boy."

Giving up, Bobby dialed Dean's number instead and to his surprise, received an answer.

"What's up, Bobby?" Dean said in a slightly annoyed tone.

"What's up? You tell me what's up Dean Winchester! Were you dropped on your head as a baby?" Bobby barked, angry that the eldest Winchester had driven his brother away.

"What are you talking about, Bobby?" Dean asked. Bobby could hear the screeching of the wind on the other end of the phone and wondered where Dean was going.

"Sam," Bobby growled, "I'm talking about Sam. You hurt him Dean, badly and I think you should call him and apologize for whatever you said to him!"

"Sorry Bobby," Dean answered, "No can do. Sam was the one who left in the first place; he was the one who wanted out. I'm not going to go on some wild goose chase to try and find him."

Bobby's grip on the phone tightened incrementally, "You know you could find Sam if you really wanted to. Don't act like you're the only one that this is hurting."

"Sam's a big boy, he can take care of himself," Dean argued.

"You know Sam takes things to heart too much," Bobby tried but Dean snorted with derision.

"And how is that my problem, Bobby? Sam didn't want to be a hunter anymore so I let him go," Dean explained, "Who am I to stop him from chasing his dream of having a normal life?"

"You know that's not what I'm talking about, Dean," Bobby said in a dangerous voice.

"Ooooh so you're talking about the Lucifer thing," Dean said as if the realization had just suddenly dawned on him.

"Tell him what he's won, Johnny," Bobby snarled sarcastically.

"Sam brought this on himself, Bobby, you know he did and this time I'm not going to be the one to clean up his mess," Dean growled back at the older hunter.

"I told Sam time and again that he was going down a dangerous slope but did he listen to me? Nooooo, why would Sam care what I had to say when Ruby was so much more interesting?" Dean lamented angrily.

"Get over it!" Bobby shouted, "Yes, Sam made some mistakes and he messed up but that's because he's human for Christ's sake! He's human just like you, Dean. Don't act all high and mighty because Sam stepped out of line! You're brother needs you Dean, now more than ever. What happened to the Sam and Dean I used to know, huh? What happened to the brothers who would do anything for each other, forgive each other no matter what? Dean Winchester, if I had my legs I'd put my boot so far up your ass you'd be tasting leather for a month!"

"You don't know what you're talking about, Bobby," Dean said quietly, his anger still simmering, "Sam went beyond the point of no return. He started the Apocalypse! The world is going to fucking end because of him! And you think having a chick-flick moment with him is going to make it all better?"

Bobby gritted his teeth in frustration, "Look Dean, you and Sam have always been better as a team. So Sam is Lucifer's true vessel, so what? You're Michael's meat-suit. If you're so worried about your brother saying the big 'yes', than why don't you get your ass in gear and find him to make sure he doesn't say the magic word, huh?"

"We are safer if we stay away from each other," Dean explained, "The bad guys always manage to use us against one another and I can't let that happen anymore. This is better for everyone in the end."

"Just think about what I've said," Bobby pleaded, "At least do that."

"Sure," Dean muttered, the two hunters not even bothering to say goodbye to one another before breaking the connection.

Bobby set the phone aside and stared at his unopened beer can for a moment.

"I'm gonna need something a little stronger than a brew," He muttered before wheeling himself over to his liquor cabinet and pulling out a bottle of Jim Beam.


	2. Chapter Two

Sam unlocked the door to his motel room and dropped his duffle bag unceremoniously onto the carpeted floor. He peered around the room half-heartedly before crossing to the bathroom and filling up one of the plastic cups the motel provided with cold water.

Sam stared at his reflection in the mirror as he gulped down the icy liquid, noticing the dark circles under his eyes and brow furrowed from stress.

Sighing sadly, Sam turned away from the bathroom and sat down on the bed farthest from the door. A wan smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as Sam realized that even in Dean's absence, he still took the bed his brother would want him to.

Sam leaned back against the lumpy mattress and stared up at the water-stained popcorn ceiling wondering what to do next.

W

Evening found Sam sitting alone at a local watering-hole a few blocks from his motel. He stared blindly at the seat opposite him- where Dean should have been sitting- while his fingers shredded the label of his untouched bottle of beer.

The bar was loud and bustling. It seemed as if every cowpoke in Fort Worth had retired here for a night of drinking and dancing. The air was stale and smelt of spilt beer and sweat. Billy Ray Cyrus lamented over his 'achy breaky heart' from a Jukebox that had seen better days. The floor was sticky with God-knew-what and the lighting left something to be desired.

Sam didn't notice any of this though. All he could think about was his brother. Dean should be here. Should be guzzling down his fourth beer and hitting on all the pretty girls in low-rise jeans and cowboy boots.

Pick a hemisphere.

Sam ground his teeth as his brother's words wormed their way into his head again.

What was he doing here? He should be heading to Mexico by now. Wasn't that the plan?

Tomorrow, Sam told himself; tomorrow I'll cross the border and won't look back. I just need tonight to get some rest.

Sam stared at his beer bottle- the alcohol had long gone warm- and frowned.

Pick a hemisphere.

Sam sighed and stood, paying for his untouched beer and slipped through the crowd toward the exit.

W

The night air was chilly and Sam was glad he had his jacket with him. Light from the bar spilled out onto the sidewalk, painting the concrete a kaleidoscope of red, blue and yellow.

Stuffing his hands into his pockets, Sam's gaze drifted to his shoes and remained fixed there.

Walking around the corner, Sam thought only about getting back to his motel room where he could catch a few hours of sleep before continuing on south, when the sounds of a struggle alerted him to trouble in a nearby alleyway.

"Go away! I said no!" A scared and angry female voice cried out.

"C'mon baby, don't be like that," A deep masculine voice chuckled, clearly drunk.

Sam peered around the corner of the alley and saw a man towering over a rather small, skinny young woman.

"I said no! Leave me alone!" the girl tugged at the man's hand on her arm.

Sam couldn't just stand by and watch, his legs moved of their own accord and he stepped into the mouth of the alley.

"Hey, douchebag," Sam called out, "She said she doesn't want to go with you."

The man let go of the young woman's arm and approached Sam, "Why don't you mind your own business?"

Sam nodded at the girl as she hurried past him. He smiled; glad that he could do something good for someone.

"You should have kept your nose out of this, buddy," the man growled. It was dark in the alley and difficult for Sam to see but he could tell that he was at least a foot taller than the other man.

"Guess I can't help myself," Sam smirked and easily moved into a fighting stance.

Suddenly stars burst in the young man's vision and he lost his balance, slumping forward as he passed out.

The girl smiled from behind the fallen Winchester, one hand twirling the butt of her pistol.

"That's gonna hurt in the morning," the man, Lloyd, laughed and the young woman stepped over Sam's body.

"That was almost too easy," Alma pressed herself against the other hunter, "We'd better get him to Tim and Reggie before he wakes up."

Lloyd leaned down and kissed Alma, wrapping a brawny arm around her slender waist. The female hunter took her cell phone out and pressed Speed Dial.

"Yeah, Tim, we got him," her sultry voice informed the blond hunter as Lloyd kissed her neck.

Alma smiled, "Glad to help out a friend."

W

Sam woke slowly, the back of his head pounding, and blinked groggily at his surroundings.

Sam didn't dare to try and sit up yet. He raised a hand to the nape of his neck and felt his hair matted with sticky blood.

His vision was foggy- due to the blow to the back of his head- and Sam squeezed his eyes shut for a moment.

What had happened? The last thing Sam remembered was rescuing that young woman from that drunken prick outside the bar.

Carefully Sam opened his eyes and allowed them to focus. He narrowed them suspiciously when he got a good look at where he was.

The room had a plain cement floor and redbrick walls. There was a small window set high in one wall- too high for Sam to reach and too small for him to climb through- and a single naked bulb casting a dusty light down on him. The door reminded Sam of the one that led to Bobby's panic room- dark, unyielding iron- with no handle on the inside.

As Sam continued to peer around the room, he saw that someone had drawn a Devil's Trap on the floor in black permanent marker- the trap touched the angle where the floor and walls met, leaving only the four corners of the square room free of the trap's power- and a matching one on the ceiling when Sam tilted his head upwards.

This has to be some sort of mistake, Sam thought, I'm not possessed.

He reached out a hand, supporting himself against the brick wall as he stood on unsteady legs. Someone had laid him on an old, stained and lumpy mattress and had removed his shoes and jacket.

Sam shuffled forward, his eyes catching sight of a metal bucket that sat in one corner of the room and wrinkled his nose.

Lurching across the room, Sam leaned against the metal door for a moment as his head swam and his stomach flip-flopped dangerously.

Raising a fist, Sam knocked his hand against the door. The metal gave a dull, sonorous thud that didn't echo.

"Hey!" Sam called out as loudly as he dared- his head spiked with pain as he raised his voice, "Hello? I'm in here! There's been a mistake! I'm not a demon!"

Sam paused, trying to listen through the thick metal. After a moment he decided to try again.

"Hey! Can anybody hear me?" Sam's voice cracked and he coughed, nearly doubling over with its force and the pain in his head.

"Shit," Sam whispered and laid a hand on the door for support. He had no idea where he was or who had locked him in this room. The only thing Sam knew for sure was that whoever was on the other side of the door, they were not a friend.

Gathering up his strength again, Sam slammed the flat of his hand against the door, "Hey! Let me out of here!"

Sam sighed and turned away from the door. It was obvious that no one was going to answer him- not anytime soon, at least- and he crossed the floor to sit heavily on the mattress.

Sam lifted a hand and ran his fingers through his hair, careful not to touch the gash on the back of his head. He closed his eyes as a wave of dizziness swept over him and Sam lay down on his side on the mattress. All he could do now was wait until whoever was keeping him locked in this room decided to appear and give him some answers.

SPN

Dean gulped down his the last mouthful of beer and seriously contemplated ordering another one.

He leaned back against the bench seat and sighed. He had never felt so relaxed before. And it wasn't just because of the beer, either. Dean didn't have Sam to worry about anymore. Dean was on his own and he felt… free.

Dean couldn't help but be glad that Sam had decided to leave. After everything that had happened recently with Ruby and the Apocalypse, Dean and Sam hadn't been acting very much like brothers and their relationship was only getting worse. Now they both had a chance to do what they wanted; Dean could continue hunting, find out a way to stop the end of the world and Sam could live his 'normal life'.

Everything would be better for the Winchester brothers now that they were separated. And as long as things stayed that way, Dean reasoned, nothing could go wrong.

Dean stopped a passing waitress, "Hey Sweetheart, do you think there's another beer in the back for me?"

The young woman smiled and nodded. The patron was certainly nicer and better looking than many of the other guys who flocked to the bar. As she grabbed a bottle she scribbled her name and number onto a small white napkin and handed it over with the alcohol when she returned.

Dean raised an eyebrow when he received his beer and the waitresses' number.

"What time does your shift end?" he asked and twisted open the beer.

The waitress flicked her long hair back over her shoulder and cocked her hip seductively.

Tonight's really shaping up; Dean thought and took a swig of beer as he admired the waitress' butt as she went to check on some other bar flies.


	3. Chapter Three

Sam's eyes shot open immediately at the sound of a rusty door handle shifting position. Standing up, Sam prepared himself for anything, not sure exactly what or whom he should be ready for.

When Sam's captor slipped into the room, the young man's heart began to pound in his chest- not from fear but from anger- and he curled his hands into fists, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

"What am I doing here?" Sam demanded, watching Tim closely as the older man moved toward him. Sam didn't see any weapons but that meant nothing when it came to hunters.

"Sorry about knocking you out," Tim ignored Sam's question, "But you have to admit, would you really have come with us otherwise?"

"You have no right to do this," Sam growled, eyes following Tim's movements in case his body language became threatening.

"Why? I'm a hunter and you're… well, not a hunter," Tim smiled as he slowly walked forward, his stroll casual and relaxed.

"If this is about your friend," Sam reigned in his anger- for the moment- and tried to speak rationally to Tim, especially since the man definitely had the upper hand in the situation, "I've already told you, I'm sorry about what happened but I can't help you."

Tim shook his head, "This isn't about Steve, Sam. This is about the Apocalypse that you started."

Sam gulped, now a sliver of trepidation slipped into his stomach. He kept the anxiety from his face and posture though; no way was he going to let Tim know he was nervous.

"Tim," Sam began, "I can't help you."

The hunter frowned, "You mean you won't help."

"Please," Sam said, "I made a mistake-"

"That you refuse to clean up! That you refuse to take responsibility for!" Tim snapped suddenly, startling Sam.

The younger man backed up until he hit the wall behind him. He had nowhere to run. He didn't doubt that Reggie was outside, maybe even listening into the entire conversation and, hell, they could have invited some of their other friends over for the party.

"What do you want from me?" Sam asked, wincing when his voice cracked.

Tim looked like that cat that had eaten a whole flock of canaries, "I want you to kill every demonic son of a bitch that's out there, Sam. I want you to use to use those freaky powers of yours and get back in the game."

Sam opened his mouth and closed it before taking a breath, "You wouldn't."

Tim shrugged his shoulders, "It's your call, Sam."

The younger man watched in shocked silence as the older hunter turned his back and walked toward the door.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked, stepping away from the wall, confused.

"Giving you some time to think things over," Tim looked over his shoulder, "I'm sure you'll see things our way… eventually. See you in three days."

Sam stopped short, stunned.

"What? No! Let me out of here! You can't do this!" Sam cried out and stumbled forward, not fast enough because the door was already closed and locked by the time he slammed his fists against the cold metal.

SPN

Dean couldn't help but jump a little as Castiel appeared in the back seat of the Impala. Regaining his composure quickly, the hunter peered at his friend in the rearview mirror.

The angel was practically boring a hole into the back of the front passenger's seat with his blue eyes.

"Where is your brother?" Cas asked in his customary monotone.

"Not here," Dean shrugged but his grip tightened ever so slightly on the steering wheel.

"That is obvious, Dean," the angel admonished, "But if Sam is not with you then where is he?"

Again Dean lifted one shoulder noncommittally, "South of the border by now, I guess."

"You do not actually know where your brother is," Cas said as the realization dawned on him.

Dean smiled, "Tell the man what he's won."

"I did not know this was some sort of a game, Dean," Cas commented.

Dean shook his head, "I'm not playing around. Sam wanted out. He didn't want to man-up and take responsibility for his mistakes so he left."

"Why didn't you try and stop him?" Cas asked and Dean narrowed his eyes.

The angel had been under the impression that the brothers were very close, even if they argued sometimes but maybe he had been wrong.

"Maybe I didn't want to stop him," Dean growled.

Cas had nothing to add to that and so remained silent. If Dean thought it was a good thing that Sam wasn't with him than perhaps it was. Dean, of course, knew Sam better than Castiel did anyway.

"How's the search for God coming along?" Dean asked, changing the subject.

"My father still remains elusive," the angel answered, "But I am confident that He will appear once He is made aware of the impending Apocalypse."

Dean grunted in reply. He didn't know why the angel was so hell-bent on finding God. The young man was sure that if the Lord did exist, He'd already turned his back on the Earth because Dean had never had any of his prayers answered.

"Why did you call me, Dean?" the angel interrupted the young man's thought, returning him to the very purpose of his friend's visit.

"Did you know," Dean began, biting the words out as though they tasted bitter on his tongue, "About Sam being Lucifer's vessel?"

Castiel actually raised his eyebrows in shock, "Your brother is Lucifer's true vessel?"

Dean merely nodded, not willing to say those words again.

"Did you know about this? Did you know about Michael too?"

This time the angel shook his head, "No, Dean. I was unaware of this information."

Dean narrowed his eyes suspiciously, trying to decide if the angel was lying to him.

"How do you know that Sam is meant to be Lucifer's vessel?"

It was Dean's turn to look surprised, "Sam told me. A few nights ago. Had some fucked-up dream and ol' Lucy himself told Sam the big news."

Dean didn't like the concerned expression that dawned on the angel's face.

"Has Michael communicated with you? Have you dreamt about him?"

Dean frowned, "What? No, of course not! I guess those Enochian symbols of yours really did the trick."

Castiel nodded but didn't look at all relieved by Dean's words.

"Are you sure you do not know where Sam is?"

Dean sighed in exasperation, "Cas, my brother can take care of himself, okay? Let somebody else worry about him. You just concentrate on finding God or whatever."

"Dean," the angel said in a low voice, "This is serious. If Lucifer was able to find Sam this quickly and infiltrate his dreams it will not take him long to pinpoint your brother's location in the waking world. If Lucifer finds Sam he will surely try to force your brother to say yes."

Dean stopped listening to his friend. So what if Sam agreed to be Lucifer's meat-suit? Dean wasn't going to jump on the angel condom band-wagon and say yes to Michael.

"Dean," Castiel snapped, "Sam didn't leave because he didn't want to hunt anymore, did he?"

"Goodbye Cas," Dean growled and almost smiled when the angel disappeared from the backseat.

The hunter turned on the radio to cut the sudden silence in the car, searched for a good classic rock station and hummed happily when Ozzy Osbourne's 'Crazy Train' came blaring from the speakers.

SPN

Sam stared at the heavy metal door as if trying to bore a hole through it. He sat on the old, lumpy mattress with his legs stretched out in front of him and his back against the brick wall. The inside of Sam's mouth felt like it was coated in sandpaper and his grimaced in pain whenever he swallowed.

Night had fallen long ago but Sam fought off sleep. He wanted to be ready for when Tim reappeared. The hunter's friends had already gotten the better of him in Fort Worth and that was unacceptable.

Sam yawned loudly, trying to ignore the hunger gnawing away at his stomach. He rubbed tiredly at his eyes and sighed. Maybe Tim wasn't going to come back. Maybe he had decided just to lock Sam up and leave him to starve to death. Sam cringed at the morbid thought and stood. He didn't trust the way his knees wobbled as they held his weight but he stepped forward- sheepishly- anyway.

Sam approached the door with measured footsteps and pressed his ear against the cold metal, trying to hear anything on the other side. Nothing. Not that Sam expected it to be any different. Sam turned away and tried not to think about what was going to happen to him. Tim and Reggie had made it very clear that they were not beyond hurting people- innocent people- when they'd threatened Lindsey at the bar in Garber. Sam didn't want to think about what the two hunters might do if he refused to help them.

Sam returned to the far side of the room and sat down heavily. He was exhausted. The handful of days without food or water had left Sam much weaker than he'd thought he'd be. He was running on fumes and pretty soon even they wouldn't be enough to keep him going.

Without giving it conscious thought, Sam lay down on the mattress and closed his eyes. In less than a minute the young man was in a deep sleep, not even stirring when the door opened on its squeaky hinges and a figure entered the room.

SPN

Bobby Singer wondered if both the Winchester boys had dropped off the face of the Earth. He had tried calling both Sam and Dean numerous times but to no avail. Gritting his teeth in frustration, the old hunter had to resist the temptation to throw his cell phone across the living room. All Bobby wanted was to know that the boys were all right. Hell, he'd be happy with a text message at this point, as long as they acknowledged his calls.

Bobby wasn't surprised not to hear from Dean- he was still pissed at the younger man since their last phone conversation- but he had thought better of Sam. Surely he would have contacted Bobby to let him know he'd arrived at his destination- wherever that was- safely.

The veteran hunter lamented the fact that he couldn't even call on Cas to do a reconnaissance on the Winchesters anymore because of the Enochian symbols on their ribs- if the angel wanted to know where Sam and Dean were he'd have to call them and ask for their whereabouts like everyone else.

A part of Bobby knew he really shouldn't worry; this part knew that the brothers had been in sticky situations before and both had come out of them okay but they'd had always been together. What scared the living daylights out of Bobby was the fact that the boys were both flying solo. Despite being each other's weakness, it was also true that Sam and Dean worked best when they were a team. Bobby had seen both Sam and Dean without the other and it was not a pretty sight. They just didn't function properly by themselves.

A part of Bobby wondered if this separation couldn't actually be for the best. At least this way, both boys got what they wanted. Dean could continue hunting without having to keep a constant eye on his brother and Sam could finally have a second chance at a normal life. The veteran hunter thought about the fight he'd had on the phone with the eldest Winchester: Dean did have a point; their enemies wouldn't be able to use them against each other this way… as difficult as that thought was to accept.

"Maybe I'm just so used to being their referee that I gotta realize I can't always be getting involved in their arguments," Bobby said to himself resignedly, "They ain't little boys anymore."

Bobby dialed Sam's number for the hundredth time and sighed when it went straight to voicemail.

"I just hope y'all know what you're doing," Bobby muttered and set his phone aside

SPN

Sam threw caution to the wind. He was just so damn thirsty. He grabbed the bottle of water and twisted off the cap- at least it hadn't been opened previously as the crack of tearing plastic filled the small room- and gulped down half the contents.

Having slaked his thirst, Sam eyed the bowl of what appeared to be oatmeal, warily.

Sam had slept a few hours- upon awaking he saw that morning's golden light lent a crisper brightness to that room- before reluctantly opening his eyes. He had been unpleasantly surprised to find the food and water in the room. Sam hadn't even heard the door being opened and that realization left him feeling incredibly vulnerable.

Sam's stomach clenched painfully and he knew he had to eat something soon.

Tentatively, Sam reached out a hand and wiped some of the porridge from the side of the bowl with his finger- no utensils had been provided- and stared questioningly at the breakfast cereal for a moment.

The oatmeal was cold and gluey- an unappetizing shade of grey- but otherwise seemed perfectly harmless.

Sam wolfed down half of the bowl's contents before pausing. If he ate any more he was sure to be sick. Sitting back on his haunches, Sam licked his fingers clean before wiping them on his jeans. Sam's stomach gurgled wetly and he quickly took another swig of water.

Sam stood up and suddenly the room began spinning around him. He closed his eyes but the dizzy feeling didn't go away. Stumbling blindly, Sam hit one of the walls and slid down, his legs buckling at the knees. Sam landed on his side and began to panic: he felt lightheaded and his eyes felt weighted down. He struggled to stay awake but his willpower was no use against whatever drug swam through his veins. Only too late did Sam realize that the oatmeal had been spiked with some sort of sedative and he had been stupid enough to fall right into the trap. No longer able to fight against the toxin in his bloodstream, Sam's eyes shut of their own accord and he was pulled quickly into unconsciousness.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to AlexMeg for helping me with this story.  
> Please leave a comment if you enjoy this fanfic.


End file.
